As the lines between good and evil were blurred and new, unlikely alliances were formed, there were very few things keeping Carson Bradley sane. But sometimes, even sanity was not enough to win a war when there was already so much blood raining down...
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CHAPTER EIGHT A CRIMSON CURSE
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I groaned as I stood in line.
"What now?" Stiles laughed, poking my shoulder.
I pointed at the giant rock wall less than ten feet away from us. "This should be illegal. Do you think if I can get a bunch of signatures we can rally against this?"
"You don't like rock walls?" Stiles asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
I shook my head. "I don't like gym," I corrected. "This wall is only about half my problem."
I took another glance at the plastic gray wall that had been set up in the middle of the gym. Coach just had to make today's lesson about climbing a rock wall. Was he out to get me or something? And besides, knowing how to climb up a wall with rainbow colored footholds isn't going to help us in the real world. It was like those weird fruit problems in math class. Like, seriously, if anyone buys that many oranges, you have a problem. Seemingly the most important thing in a teachers eyes, a sleep aid to most students. If rock climbing or needing to know the price of eighty and a half oranges ever comes up, I'll probably be screwed but oh well.
"It's not that bad," Stiles commented, eyeing the wall. "We might even be partners. Scott and Allison are."
I glanced at the wall where the secret couple appeared to be racing to the top. "And you being strapped in next to me is supposed to help me how?"
He opened his mouth before closing it and pausing. He looked at the wall, then back at me and shrugged. "There's a mat to catch you if you fall?"
I rolled my eyes. "Babe, it's a fifteen foot plastic wall. Who's going to be dumb enough to fall—"
A loud thump was heard, cutting me off. Our gazes shifted up front to where Scott was flat on his back on the mat. Allison was at the top and was smirking down at her boyfriend. Finstock laughed louder than anyone and made some offhand comment about enjoying our best friends pain.
"Okay, so I forgot to add Scott into the equation," I laughed. "Either way, I'm not that brain dead enough to fall on a mat."
"I never said otherwise," Stiles smiled, pressing a kiss to my cheek.
"Stilinski! Stop kissing my students!" Finstock yelled. Stiles blushed slightly as the class laughed. Finstock's eyes landed on me. "Bradley, you're up. Take Greenburg with you."
My eyes scanned over the crowd before landing on Finstock's least favorite student. I groaned.
Finstock nodded sympathetically—or at least as sympathetic as Coach could get. "I know, I know. But we all have to take one for the team sometimes. Listen, you beat him up the wall and I'll give you an A."
